Circus of The Darned (3 page)

When you're almost six feet tall and built like a linebacker, you tend to block people's views. On the raised stage, Peter and Soren were turning a member of the audience into Bruno. That was an illusion, of course, not the real magic that Peter sometimes did, the kind that left my arms

covered in goose bumps. I rubbed my arms just thinking about it, hoping that tonight he would

feel inspired enough to perform one of his mind-boggling magic tricks.

"… and with the magic words—what were they?" Peter waited for the crowd to shout back the magic words, which were never the same.

"Isosceles triangle!" the audience shouted in response.

I smiled. Peter told me two nights before he was running out of magic words, and did I have any suggestions for words that had a nice alliteration. Evidently he was as desperate as he said,

because I didn't think my suggestion sounded particularly magical or alliterative, but the crowd seemed to get a kick out of it.

"I say the magic words—
isosceles triangle
—and voilà! Jan has been turned into a wild stallion."

Soren whipped off the thin nylon covering the metal frame that hid Bruno from the audience's

view. The horse charged down the stage, stopping at the edge to rear on his back legs and paw

the air as if he were about to leap straight into the audience. People shrieked and threw

themselves down, some laughing,some yelling exclamations at the thought of a dangerous horse

loose.

It was all an act, of course. Bruno was very well trained, so well trained that I'd never seen him put a hoof wrong. I watched him paw theair, the sight of it triggering a memory of something

Tesla had done a few weeks before, when a demon had attacked us.

Why do you look so puzzled
?a soft voice asked next to me.

"What Bruno's doing…I think Tesla did the same thing. That move where he sits on his

haunches and paws the air—"

It suddenly struck me that the voice I had heard had spoken directly into my mind. And there

was only one person I knew who could do that.

Ben?

Right behind you.

I spun around to see Ben lounging in the doorway of the tent, wearing a coolIndiana Jones-type

hat, and the same black leather motorcycle jacket I'd seen him in before. His arms were crossed over his chest, a kind of half-smile on his face as he watched me. My stomach did a funny little flip-flop as I smiled back at him. I forgot for a minute that I was mad at him for taking off

without telling me, instead wanting to just look at him.

Tesla is a Lipizzan. I told you that.

Huh
? I was a bit confused by why he was talking about Tesla for a moment.
Oh, yeah, you
did.
So?

The move Bruno made is called a levade.

A le-what?

Levade.It's one of the airs above the ground.

I walked over to where Ben leaned against the door frame. "Hi. What's an air above the

ground?"

"A series of movements that Lipizzans are known for."

"OK. But Bruno isn't a Lipizzan."

"No, he isn't, but he's related to them. Andalusians are occasionally trained in the airs above the ground as well."

"Huh." I said,then socked him on the shoulder.Hard. "Where the horned bullfrogs have you been? And why haven't you called? Or sent me an e-mail or a letter or something? Why did you

disappear like that, without a word to anyone? I thought you wanted to do the boyfriend thing

with me?"

"What boyfriend thing would that be?" he asked, looking at my mouth. My stomach did three backflips in a row. "Are you talking about kissing? Did you want to practice on me some more?"

If my stomach had been in the Olympics, it would have won a medal for gymnastics. I stared at

Ben's mouth, feeling incredibly squidgy, but at the same time, I couldn't look away. Ben was the world's best kisser—he'd had more than three hundred years to practice, so that was no

surprise—but what
was
a surprise was how much I enjoyed his lessons.

Don't get me wrong, I've never had anything against guys. They're, you know, guys.Nice sometimes, sometimes not. But I've never really wanted to kiss one of them the way I wanted to

kiss Ben.

"Fran?Do you want to kiss me?"

"Yeah," I answered, then remembered an episode ofRickiLake that said guys like it when you play hard to get.Something about the thrill of the chase. "I mean, no.Maybe. Er… what was the question?"

He laughed and pulled me outside the tent, into the shadow of the ticket booth, his hands warm

around my waist. I
prefer you enthusiastic and willing rather than hard to get. SayMississippi
.

"I have a better place name," I whispered against his lips: "It's the name of a town inWales ."

And that would be
… ?

"Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwyllllantysili-ogogogoch," I murmured, my lips

against his in a way that made all my insides melt into a great big puddle.

He laughed into my head.

What, did I say it wrong? I memorized the pronunciation from a Web site.

I don't know if the pronunciation is correct or not; all I know is I like how you say it.

I let him kiss me then,
really
kiss me, because… well, he was good at it. And even though I was pissed at him, I wasn't so pissed I didn't want to kiss him, so I just kept whispering the

Llanfairpwyll word (it's easier to pronounce than it looks).

"Miss Ghetti?" A soft voice followed by anembarrassed cough managed to work its way through my brain. "My apologies for disturbing you, but are you Miss Francesca Ghetti? The owner of the horsecurrently grazing in the meadow next to the fortress?"

Ben spun around and blocked my view of the man who spoke. "Who are you?"

I shoved his back, but he didn't move, so I edged my way around him, blushing like mad that

someone had caught Ben and me lip wrestling. "Hi. I'm Fran."

"What do you want her for?" Ben asked.

I pinched his wrist, smiling at the man in front of me. He didn't look like a stalker or anything—

he kind of looked like my father, tall, with faded red hair and dark brown eyes. "Can I help you with something? Were you looking for a palm reading?"

The man slid a look toward Ben before answering me."Palm reading? No. Not unless… no. I am

Lars Laufeyiarson. The young man taking care of the Andalusian gelding told me that the other horse belongs to you, is that correct?"

"Tesla?Yeah, I guess he belongs to me."

His forehead wrinkled. "You guess? You are not certain? Are you not his legal owner?"

"Yes, I'm certain. My mom made me get a receipt from the guy I bought Tesla from before we leftHungary . I'm his legal owner. Why do you want to know? Tesla hasn't been loose, so I know

he couldn't have done anything, or gotten into any trouble—"

"I wish to purchase him," the man said abruptly, sliding Ben another wary look. "I will pay you one thousand dollars American for him."

Chapter Three

I swear my jaw just about hit my feet when Mr. Laufeyiarson offered a grand for Tesla. A

thousand dollars! For a horse!
My
horse? Something was definitely not right.

"You want to pay a thousand
dollars
for Tesla?" I asked, thinking maybe he was offering me a thousand of some other currency, something that sounded big, but really only meant ten bucks.

Mr. Laufeyiarson nodded. "Yes, one thousand dollars American."

Maybe he had the wrong horse? Maybe he thought Bruno was Tesla? Bruno had to be worth a

ton of money; he knew all sorts of moves and special tricks, but Tesla? Tesla wasjust an old

horse who like to snuffle people for treats, and occasionally allowed me to ride him around a

field at a slow pace. "I don't want to sound insulting, Mr. Laufeyiarson, but are you sure you're talking about Tesla, and not Bruno? He's Andalusian, and very valuable—"

He shook his head. "No, the Andalusian is a gelding. I'm interested in the Lipizzan stallion."

I slid a confused glance toward Ben. He stood next to me, his arms crossed over his chest,

watching me with dark oak eyes with pretty sparkly gold flecks. "Um… that's really nice of you, Mr. Laufeyiarson, but I don't think I could sell Tesla. I kind of promised a girl inHungary that I'd take care of him."

"I understand. You have received another offer, yes? I will match the offer. How much do you want?" He pulled out a big leather wallet. My eyes bugged at the amount of money he had

stuffed into it. "I brought fifteen hundred in cash, but if the offer was for more—"

"No!" I yelped, holding up a hand as he started digging out the wad of money. "There's been no other offer, honest. I just don't want to sell Tesla."

He frowned at me, a kind of puzzled look in his eyes that cleared as he looked at Ben. He said

something in a language that wasn't English. Surprise flickered across Ben's face for a moment, and then he answered in the same language. A few seconds later, Mr. Laufeyiarson gave me a

long, considering look,then inclined his head. "I see. I regret you could not accommodate me. If you change your mind, you may reach me at any time."

I looked down at the card he pushed into my hand before he walkedoff, leaving me to wonder

just what was going on, what Ben had told him, and why he thought I would change my

mind.Time for some answers.

"All right, what did ail that mean?"

"All what?"Ben didn't wait for me to reply. He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the area where the trailers were parked, stopping when we were hidden by shadows.

"All that he looked atyou, and you looked at him, and you both did that secret guy talk thing that males do, and then Mr. Laufeyiarson left. Hey! You can't kiss me again!"

"I can't?Why not?" Ben pulled me into his arms and I stood for a moment, queen of indecision.

Part of me—the girly part—wanted to swoon up against him and breathe in that wonderful Ben

smell that was part leather jacket, part woodsy outdoors, but the other part of me—the brainy

part—reminded the rest of me that he had disappeared for the past three weeks without any sort

of an explanation, without even a good-bye.

"Because you already had your welcome back kiss, and now it's time to start explaining a few things, like where you've been, and why you went away without saying anything to me or

Imogen, and who Mr. Laufeyiarson was, and why would anyone want to pay a thousand dollars

for an old gray horse?"

"Tesla's a Lipizzan. I told you he was valuable," Ben said, ignoring the more important questions. At least he let go of me so I could step back and get a little distance from him.

"Obviously this man recognized his bloodlines, and thinks stud rights are worth the money

despite the stallion's age."

"You didn't say Tesla was valuable," I said, frowning. Stud rights? Someone wanted Tesla to get busy with a mare? My old creaky Tesla who had to walk around for a couple of hours to work

out the stiffness in his joints?Valuable? "Do you think he was, like… oh, I don't know, stolen or something? Maybe I should write to my friend inHungary and ask her how her grandfather got

him."

Ben shrugged. "I meant to look into Tesla's past while I was inHungary , but I was… er…

sidetracked."

"By what?"I asked,my attention immediately yanked away from the mystery of Tesla.

Ben just looked at me. I made an annoyed sound and stripped off both gloves of my right hand,

scratching an itchy spot on the back of it before placing my palm against the patch of skin

exposed above the neckline of his black T-shirt. Ben was one of the few people who could close

off his mind to me so I wasn't overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions. Now all I felt was a deep, burning red hunger.

I sighed and pulled my hand back. I didn't really want to, but I knew if I continued to stand there touching him, I'd end up kissing him again, and I really wanted some answers. A little spot on

the side of my head tickled. I scratched it and said, "You know, you don't have to shut off all your emotions. A few would be helpful."

Even in the darkness of the shadows I could see his teeth flash white in a quick grin. "If you knew everything, then there would be no mystery to keep you coming back to me."

My nose itched. I scratched it as I answered. "Any more mystery andI'm going to start thinking a less annoying boyfriend is the way to go. So you were inHungary after we left?"

My cheek itched. Ben said nothing as I scratched my cheek.

"What exactly were you doing inHungary ? Something to do with this job you have that you

won't tell me anything about?"

The back of my neck almost twitched it itched so badly. I scratched it with both hands, mentally cursing the fact that Ben couldn't lie to me. Not that I wanted him to lie, but I'd found out that it was more annoying to have him refuse to speak than to try to decide whether what he was saying

was true.

"And what happened to your cross? You're not wearing it anymore. You haven't suddenly gone all vampy about it, have you? You told me you could wear crosses and go into churches and all

that stuff—has something changed?"

"No, nothing has changed," he said, his eyebrows pulling together as I reached behind me with both hands, yanked up the back of my shirt, and scratched like mad at a really itchy spot on my spine. "Have you picked up fleas from Tesla?"

"I don't have fleas!" I said, outraged, as I leaned against the trailer and rubbed my back on a protruding bit of metal. The itch wasn't appeased, but figured it couldn't hurt to try. "And neither does Tesla!"

"Then why are you hopping around like you are covered in itching powder?"

"It's my mother. It must be time for the circle to form. This is her subtle way of telling me she

wants me."

His black eyebrows rose. "She torments you when she wants you?"